


Waiting on Nothing

by Sundaye



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Baltimore, Binghamton University Riot, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Kevin's POV, Or at least part of that arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 04:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sundaye/pseuds/Sundaye
Summary: A short piece on Kevin's perspective of the events that followed the riot at Binghamton.Kevin has to deal with the realization that Neil isn't returning to the Foxes once he goes missing following the riot at Binghamton. Being the only person who knows the whole truth about Neil's father, he makes that realization before everyone else.





	Waiting on Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to push through a little block, and I've always wanted to write from Kevin's perspective. This was the result of trying that out. 
> 
> Thank you for checking this short fic out!

Kevin could brawl with the most brutal players on the court. He could sink a fist into the stomach of a pissed backliner so they'd double over. Shoving the palm of his hand hard against padded shoulders to push back his opponents was second nature, thoughtless. 

Fighting on the court was part of the game--another play, another set of moves Kevin could disassemble and perfect with experience. It wasn't the sickening crunch of bone and senseless agony. It was bruising, maybe, sweat, and scathing words Kevin could parry with equal viciousness.  
  
The mob outside the bus was violence Kevin had never prepared for. Faceless bodies writhing, lashing, beating their hands against the sides of the bus like Kevin's heart tearing apart against his sternum. People were screaming so loud it left his ears ringing.  
  
Andrew was out there in the thick of it, probably staining his knuckles black and blue against someone's face. Aaron was glaring out at the people rioting around the bus like he'd like to do the same—but he understood how this worked just like Kevin did, so he stayed in his seat.

A row across from Kevin, Nicky's heels were bouncing off of the bus floor in an irritating rhythm. Even he couldn't find a word to say as they waited.  
  
Kevin's gut ached like someone had his stomach in their fist. Like he'd missed something, his footing, a warning, and he was now falling fast. He couldn't shake the panic--never could--and it was starting to make his hands shake outside of their skin. Pale white scars mocked him. Nausea surged up his throat.  
  
The Foxes pushed onto the bus one by one looking like they'd all had a piece torn out of them. Kevin barely recognized them. Their clothes were ripped, faces worn to a slim edge. He didn't see Andrew. He didn't see Neil.  
  
"--need to get you guys to a hospital. Especially with that wrist, Renee, it might be brok--" Abby was saying in a voice that barely held its control.  
  
"Minyard," Coach's low voice cut through Kevin's half-daze.

Kevin looked at the door. Andrew was standing there like he'd been born from this frenzied brand of violence. There was a nasty bruise already clouding the skin at his temple. The white of his eye was shot through with red and his eyelid drooped like it couldn't hold itself up. It looked painful and ugly, but Andrew's expression was unaffected as he inspected Kevin in a careful glance.  
  
Wymack took a headcount and cursed. "Where's Neil?" The same question was a tick sticking in Kevin's mind. If he picked at it, he was afraid of finding out the answer.  
  
Kevin looked out at the crowd still frothing with thrown bottles and fists. He saw cops trying to subdue the uncontrollable mass with mace. It was quickly becoming effective.  
  
_He's fine_ , Kevin thought, and winced at the wording, _He's waiting out the riot somewhere safe. He knows how to get out, hide somewhere_.  
  
Kevin didn't lie very often, but when he did, it was to himself.

  
Abby was still talking about taking the injured Foxes to the hospital. Wymack was talking about waiting for Neil. Matt refused to leave without making sure Neil was okay.  
  
"He might already be in a hospital nearby," Abby argued, "We can't do anything until he shows up. I'll call every hospital in the area while we wait in the ER." Matt's face was still stubbornly set against leaving but Wymack intervened before he could protest.  
  
"Go with Abby. No, shut up. Go. We'll wait for Neil. Abby will call around. He's probably waiting for everything to die down before he makes it over here. The kid's not always smart about this shit, but he's smart enough to do that much. Hell, maybe he got himself arrested and they have him down at the station. We’ll call there, too."  
  
Matt sighed in frustration, unwilling to budge. It was Dan, who said something in a low, reassuring voice, that convinced him.  
  
"I'll text you when he shows up," Nicky offered, feet still jumping anxiously. Matt gave him a short, appreciative nod and left with Abby, Allison, Dan, and Renee. Andrew followed them.  
  
"Minyard, where the fuck do you think you're going?" Wymack yanked Andrew's shirt back to pull him up short.  
  
"I'm going out to make sure the idiot hasn't run too far," Andrew responded, like the idea bored him. Kevin read an edge on his face that said otherwise. He'd known for a while that Neil was _something_ to Andrew. Something that Kevin didn't entirely understand, but seemed to ground Andrew in a way nothing else did.  
  
Wymack had probably seen it, too. The look he gave Andrew was knowing. He let Andrew go and crossed his arms as the pale crown of Andrew's head disappeared through the door.  
  
The remaining Foxes waited in silence. Nobody had the energy to break it, even if they wanted to. The yelling outside had died down, and it was eerie how quiet it had become. All that was left was a ringing that still shrilled in Kevin's ears, joined by a sick pounding he knew was his own pulse.  
  
Kevin knew before Andrew returned with nothing but Neil's wilted duffel and a racquet so beaten up it sent a physical stab of pain through his heart. He choked on nothing as Andrew dropped the duffel on a random seat and started digging through it.  
  
His head felt too heavy. It fell into his hands and he distantly felt his fingers shredding through his hair as he ran them over his scalp. His face was numb. Heat solidified into bile burning his throat.  
  
Kevin remembered the Butcher. He could still hear the gurgling moan of a dying man getting _chopped_ into unrecognizable hunks of bloody meat. He could smell the sharp tang of urine, of shit, of blood. Opened up flesh smelled different than a bloody nose, or a scrape. Kevin _knew_. Fuck, he knew.  
  
Sluggishly, Kevin swallowed the bile and drew himself back up in his seat. His hands were shaking so hard he had to grip his thighs to stop it from spreading up his arms. He'd promised Neil not to tell anyone about his father.  
  
It was like being back in the Nest. Kevin portioned himself into manageable pieces and buried the parts tainted the worst with panic. His hands still shook but he didn't feel like the world was collapsing in on his body. He was watching it fall apart through a telescope instead.  
  
Andrew was distracted. He had Neil's phone open and was clicking through it. His eyebrows looked so strange the way they furrowed down intently. Kevin was shocked to see a frown twist itself across Andrew's lips. He must have made some sort of noise because Andrew glanced up at him.  
  
Kevin's eyes fell to the racquet in Andrew's hand. The strings had come loose and dirt and dents marred the entire length of the stick. Neil might not be able to use it after this. Fuck. He probably wouldn't.  
  
Kevin was reaching out to it before he realized. Andrew's hand uncurled slowly as Kevin pulled the racquet to himself.  
  
Maybe he could fix it. Then, Neil could use it. It was the racquet they'd picked out before--Kevin inhaled sharply through his nostrils. He could fix it. Neil wasn't competent enough to handle damage this bad himself. Kevin would do it, and Neil would come back, and they'd be back on the court clacking sticks after a well-won goal.  
  
Kevin ran his fingertips over the racquet's frame. It wasn't any worse than damage done over time on the court. It would last through their next game. He tugged at what netting was still intact. This was something he could do. It was a familiar process. His hands moved without him needing to think about what he was doing.  
  
It was hours, and the world moving around him as Wymack drove them away from the stadium, before the truth finally started set in. At that point, the other Foxes had returned from getting their injuries treated, and the truth was dawning on them as well.

Abby had already called every local ER several times over, her voice growing more and more hopeless with each response she got. The rest of them sat in worried, sore silence--afraid to voice what they were thinking out loud. Kevin stared at the beaten racquet in his hands like he was realizing it was really there for the first time.  
  
_He wouldn't have left it behind._  
  
Kevin understood Neil more than anyone. Not just his past. They both breathed the same need for exy. They both thrived on the court like no one else on Earth. Exy wasn't about playing to them. It was about living. To Neil, this racquet was worth more than his life.  
  
Kevin's hands stopped where they'd been tightening the netting on Neil's racquet and a sob strangled itself in his throat. Neil wasn't just gone. He'd been taken.  
  
_He could have been Court._ But that wasn't true. Kevin had known long ago Neil would never make it that far. Somehow, between their night practices, their growing synchrony on the court, and the quiet moments they shared off of it, Kevin had forgotten. He'd seen Neil return from the Nest, from Riko, bloody but unbroken. After all that, Kevin had really thought Neil would be with him to stay.  
  
"What." Andrew's voice split through the ringing in Kevin's ears.  
  
Kevin looked up at Andrew standing over him. Light from the parking lot they'd moved to cut in through the bus windows and lit Andrew from behind like a wrathful god.  
  
"What do you know?" Andrew asked. Kevin shook his head. Held the racquet to his chest. He'd promised Neil.  
  
Andrew stepped closer. "Where is he." Another sob spat painfully from Kevin's mouth. He promised, he promised.  
  
Andrew threw himself at Kevin. They hit the back of the seat with a loud thud and suddenly Kevin couldn't breathe. There was fire in his throat, in his chest. He thrashed against Andrew's hands strangling him but it did nothing. People were shouting things around them that Kevin couldn't make out.

"Where is he," Andrew repeated. Rage deformed his voice into something unknown. It was terrifying.

Kevin looked up at Andrew's face and remembered the exact sensation of the bones in his hand splintering through his skin. Tears smothered his vision until he couldn't tell if he really wasn't at Evermore.

When the pressure on his neck disappeared, Kevin didn't even notice. He couldn't breathe. His lungs were gone, his heart had stopped, he was broken bone and blood.

Wymack was shaking him and yelling in his ear. "Kevin! Jesus Christ, Andrew, what the hell was that? Kevin, breathe."

"Coach," Kevin croaked. His father's face swam into view above him.

It was like that first night in Palmetto.

Andrew shoved past Wymack so he could stare Kevin down. "Where is he?"

Kevin felt every breath like a knife in the throat. Neil was dead, he was dead, he was dead. Kevin remembered a sloppy thunking of flesh splitting apart and blood spatter across a white tarp.

He told them. The truth was an ugly thing that hung in the air like the Butcher's cleaver ready to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed Kevin's suffering! Please comment to let me know what you thought!


End file.
